#Fury [note that the demon known as Surgeon, or Aleksandr, is extremely sarcastic... and that the other demon, the Commander, is utterly ruthless.] (In Xynoran Realm of Nightmares, The Surgeon is growing increasingly bored as he waits for his latest patient to regain consciousness. Absently, he begins playing with a scalpel, turning it over and over, spinning it around, etc. At some point, the instrument “slips,” slicing open the 8-year-old’s chest. Immediately, the child begins to cough violently while blood wells up from his wound.) Aleksandr Ardeko (dryly): Oops… yeah, suppose we should do something about that blood. (Sighing, the demon waves its hand—and the wound closes. Before the Surgeon can do anything else, a figure darts out of the shadows.) Commander Vhoteyra (coldly): Has no one ever told you *not* to play with sharp objects? Surgeon (angrily): Vincent *Cobraface*… what are you *doing* here? Vhoteyra: That’s *Cobeyra* to you. Surgeon (menacingly): I don’t care *what* it is. (Pause) **What the *hell are you *doing* here? Vhoteyra: First, it’s impolite to answer a question with a question—and yet, that’s exactly what I’m going to do. **Who gave *you the effing order to send (thinks for a second, having forgotten the patient’s name) Orehlio Ordevahran here? Surgeon (stalling): I… I’d have to look in my files. Vhoteyra (menacingly): Wrong answer… A name, Mr. “I think I can fool the Xynorans into thinking that I’m one of them”. That is, unless you want to suffer a Universe of agony. Surgeon (looking around frantically as if the answer will drop down from the sky): Um… uh… I… think it was… *Ferguson*. Vhoteyra: *Which* one? Surgeon: I… Vhoteyra: **Excuse *me? Surgeon (panicked): Wait… It was Laird Ferguson. Vhoteyra: You mean *the* [pronounced "thee"] Ferguson? Surgeon (panting): Yes… yes… Laird Sean Ferguson… Vhoteyra (to himself): What would he care? Surgeon: That’s… that’s not all. Two others… cosigned the order. Vhoteyra (sharply): Names? Surgeon (softly): Conan Ferguson… and Mikhail Ardeko. Vhoteyra (incredulously): What would *either* of them care? I mean… (Inhales sharply) But of course: Emperor Ferguson would do *anything* for his father. And your son? Well, he’d have had the foresight to send the lad to you, who would operate on him and, so to speak, make all the Dark’s problems go away—or, at least, a lot easier.
Posted on: Mon, 12 Aug 2013 21:03:38 +0000
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